Man Reborn
by King of Simcoe
Summary: Please R&R.It follows a zombie as he regains his humanity bit by bit, his fight against the hunger that all zombies feel, and his eventual alliance with the humans. Chapter 2 is now up.
1. The Mind Returns

This is an experiment for me, as this is the first story I've written that is from the POV of a zombie. Enjoy and PLEASE review.

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All I known was the hunger. Needing to feed on those few who were still left alive. It was like I could sense them, thier heartbeats, thier breath, even thier voices. That's what drawn me to the place once known as Washington, to a place once known as the White House. I remembered those things, the names and the places, and parts of the history, but it was all swept away by the hunger. The White House had it's doors and walls dyed red with the blood of those who were trapped outside, hundreds, thousands of them fell and risen again. I feel it everytime one of the others fed. It's like ecstacy, like the best pleasure of all. I also feel it whenever one of them dies, and to me and the others like me, it was a thousand times better then when they fed.

In the White House, there were many of those still left, hundreds of them crammed in it's halls, it's rooms, it's doorways. And each of them killed many. I didn't understand it then, when I felt pleasure from the others deaths. It started like a small voice in what remained of my mind, while I moved with the many others from where I fell, I think it was New York, and it gotten stronger. Once it was so strong it was like a buzzing in my brain, it spread to those around me, through the same way the hunger remains. When we crossed the border between states, there were about 30 of us who felt it, a small amount compared to those around us, but large in the minds of the humans.

When we got to the city, there were exactly 74 of us. The more that felt it, the more of my mind returned, and the more memories came to me. But we still felt the hunger, me most of all, and we walked onward still. As we moved through the city, I sensed many of those who still remained. They were throughout the city, in groups large and small, in different buildings, with different situations, with one similarity. They were surviving, and they were winning againts us, the stronger, the more numerous. And I was ecstatic, which also spread to those of my mind. When we reached the White House, where the most of the survivors were, there was 139 of us. I remembered my name then.


	2. Isaac Truman

Thx to those of you who reviewed. It was appreciated. This chapter didn't go the way I expected it to, so please review.

And if anyone has any suggestions for the future chapters, they would also be appreciated.

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Isaac Truman.

I was Isaac Truman, before I was turned.

No, I AM Isaac Truman. I was Isaac Truman before I was turned, I was Isaac Truman when I was turned, and I am Issac Truman now.

The one who turned me, I don't know who it was, I had never seen them before in my life. But after the bite, I killed them. And I killed many more in my last few hours as a human. Then I died. And then the hunger was born, as I was reborn. And I killed those who had once been my friends. The hunger is the only thing I known, the need to feed on thier flesh, to bask in thier blood.

I remembered these things, they replaced the hunger bit by bit. I could feel it in those around me now. I could feel thier confusion at the lapse of the hunger, and the replacement of it by thier past.

Those of us from New York, I was certain that's where we had come from, were now packed in the thousands around the White House, pounding on it's enforced doors, trying to climb over the tall hedges and into the windows that remained broken from the initial defence. More of us came to try to get to the living flesh that was inside, and every so often, some moved away to find easier prey, but more came to take thier place, many more. Soon, there were hundreds of thousands of us, all trying to crack the protective shell our food has hidden itself in.

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The horde has been trying to force it's way into the White House for many weeks. Those inside must either have many supplies, or they are somehow getting out to hunt for supplies. There was over 200 of us now. But by the proximity of so many that known only the hunger, it was starting to return slowly. I known, as did those like me, that if we stayed there, we would soon revert back completly to the hunger.

So we left. We forced our way out of the horde, and left the city. For some reason, many who still felt the strong pull of the hunger followed us. I have no idea why they would. After several days, they joined us in our thoughts, and the hunger was turned into a soft noise in the background of our thoughts. There were 269 of us then.

And then we came upon what I had hoped never to see again.

A settlement of those who survived. I could sense them, and the hunger came like a tidal wave, forcing itself into our thoughts. We all fought it, but only I and 49 others were succesful. The other 219 moved towards the settlement. All I and the others seen were the explosions of fire and flesh as they fell, but still they ran. Some made it to the walls, but they soon returned to the grave. I heard some of the others fall to thier knees, in sorrow, at the loss of those they had shared the miracle that was our minds.

And the survivors saw it too. and a small group ventured out in a armored bus, to see us. They pulled up besides us, and I known that they were surprised at our inaction. And then they left, leaving us be to our sadness. I known that they would spread it through whatever communication they had with those other survivors. And I known, that we would be left alone.

That is, as long as we could fight the hunger. And because of that incident, I known that the hunger would never truly stop trying to control us.


End file.
